A Texas Holiday Reunion. Shannon Taylor Vannatter
Chapter Ten
As her parents exchanged their wedding vows, Resa McCall dabbed at her tears.
And tried to ignore one mind-numbing cowboy, Colson Kincaid.
She and Dad had pulled it off—surprised Mom with a renewal ceremony at the Bandera, Texas, dude ranch where they’d married thirty years ago last spring.
On this first afternoon of December, the anniversary of the day they’d met, they wore replicas of their original wedding finery. The same bridesmaids and groomsmen who’d stood up for them initially now flanked her parents. Even the thirty-five-year-old ring bearer and flower girl had come. And most of their friends and family were here, too.
But try as she might, Resa couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering to Colson now and then. Confident and still ridiculously handsome. Bandera rodeo hero, high school heartthrob with swoon-worthy, vivid green eyes. They’d worked together in their early twenties, six years ago. Fallen in love.
And then he’d left without so much as a goodbye. Spurred her vow to never trust another with her heart other than Jesus Christ.
“I now pronounce you still husband and wife.” The pastor winked and pointed to the mistletoe overhead. “Duncan, you may kiss your wife.”
Great. Resa had missed half the vows thanks to Mr. Cowboy Distraction.
Beneath the tulle-draped rafters of the great room, multicolored twinkle lights reflected off the iridescent Christmas garland as her parents laughingly kissed. Their devotion to one another was clear in their sweet embrace. As a teen, she’d longed for that kind of love. To follow in their footsteps with a committed lifetime marriage.
Until Colson Kincaid.
“Mr. and Mrs. McCall request your presence for the reception in the dining room across the foyer,” the pastor announced, as a mideighties love song started up.
Her parents turned to face their guests. Wearing blissful smiles, they retraced their steps down the white-poinsettia-lined aisle toward the foyer. The wedding party followed and then Resa and her brother, before ushers began escorting guests.
Her gaze flitted to Colson, then darted away. The last person she wanted to see. Today or any other day. She’d had to invite him. How could she not, since his father was her parents’ business partner? But she hadn’t thought he’d actually come.
In the foyer, Mom and Dad lined up with the wedding party.
“This is so wonderful.” Mom latched on to Resa’s arm. The tears started up again, and before she knew it they were blubbering, with Dad pulling them in for a hug.
“It was Dad’s idea.”
Mom kissed his cheek. “It was perfect.”
True to form, Resa’s brother, Emmett, stood off to the side. Inspecting his nails, looking bored.
“Break it up, you two.” Dad cleared his throat. “Greet our guests without getting them wet.”
“I better go make sure everything’s set in the dining room.” Resa disentangled herself, dabbed under her eyes, shot a glare at Emmett.
She stepped through the doors to the reception area. “Ceremony’s over.” Garland lined each side of the steaming buffet, which included lasagna, zucchini and seven-layer salad. “They’re greeting guests.”
“All set here,” a voice called from the kitchen.
There was a long row of tables in the center for her parents, family, close friends and the wedding party. Round tables filled each side for guests, graced by centerpieces with strings of imitation pearls woven through white poinsettias.
“Thanks.” Resa checked her appearance in a barn-wood-framed mirror. Thankfully, her waterproof mascara had lived up to its hype.
Backing to the entryway doors, she scanned the room. Intricate rockwork twin fireplaces bordered the space, with a wall of windows on the far end. Two massive chandeliers her father had crafted from iron wagon wheels nestled among the massive beams framing the wood ceiling.
Exactly the way it had looked in pictures of her parents’ original reception. Perfect. Only better, since all the current furnishings and decor had come from her family’s handcrafted log furniture store.
The door from the foyer opened. Spicy cologne filled her space. The same scent that had haunted her dreams for six years.
More like her recurring nightmare. She could feel him right behind her now. She drew in a calming breath, turned around.
Not one smart-aleck word surfaced. Probably best. Smart-aleck and Christian attitude didn’t compute. So he’d finagled his way into her heart. Told her she was the only girl for him. Then left her behind, to marry someone else. It was a long time ago. She needed to get over it already.
She forced a smile as her lungs deflated. “I’m surprised you came.”
“I got an invitation.”
“Yes, but—”
“You haven’t seen hide nor hair of me in six years.” He ducked his head. “Dad strong-armed me into coming. Said it was important to your folks.”
He was hatless for once. But his boots, jeans and Western shirt proved he hadn’t changed. He was still a cowboy through and through.
“This place is awesome.” He pointed toward the foyer. “I did those chairs out there.”
“How can you remember?” She’d designed the two cowhide wingbacks on sturdy log frames instead of the usual Queen Anne legs, but hadn’t realized he’d been the crafter.
“I remember all the pieces I build. The same as you probably remember all of your designs.”
She did. And those had been a challenge. When the order had been placed, she hadn’t been sure she could make rustic wingbacks come together. But in the end, it worked. And the second generation owners, neighbors and friends had placed more orders, until only Rusticks Log Furnishings complemented Chasing Eden Dude Ranch.
Silence hung loud and heavy, and turned awkward. He shifted his weight.
“I’m sorry about Felicity.” There, she’d said it. And she was sorry. Why was